


Improvise

by RainbowArches



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, I Believe in Jasper Sitwell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:41:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainbowArches/pseuds/RainbowArches
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jemma tried to make dinner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Improvise

“Mmm. Something smells good in- whoa.”

There had not been enough in the kitchen to make this much of a mess yet here it was looking like a ninth grade lab experiment gone horribly wrong. The blender was in varying states of disassembly, some sort of powder surrounding every inch within five feet of the pieces, something clumpy was dripping off the rim of the mixing bowl on the counter, slippery looking sand- yeast, Jasper realised- was scattered all across the floor along with bits of onion and bell pepper and shiny oily puddles, dishes were piled haphazardly in the sink like someone had just started washing them and become distracted, bags and containers whose contents had been recently emptied were scattered across the table, and Jemma, looking hassled and defeated with flour on her face and clumps sticking to her shirt, was slumped in a chair trying not to cry.

“I wanted to make you dinner,” she sniffed.

“I- yes. That was sweet of you.”

Jasper took in the state of the kitchen with a puzzled frown. Ordinarily he’d be too cross to bother asking questions. He’d just chuck a rag at the culprit and leave them to it. But because it was Jemma he was simply confused and a little concerned.

“What exactly happened?”

“I couldn’t get the lid open,” she said, making a fist and rubbing her forehead with the back of her hand. “Then it opened suddenly and spilt. And I didn’t know we were out of flour so I had to make some out of oatmeal but I forgot to put the lid on the blender. And the olive oil wasn’t capped properly so it spilled when I dropped it. And-”

“It’s okay,” Jasper interrupted. “Don’t worry about it.”

Jemma sniffed again and wiped away a tear, smearing a flour track across her cheek.

Jasper tamped down on the laugh that was bubbling up inside him. It would be out of fondness but it wouldn’t improve Jemma’s mood. He went over and kissed the top of her head, hugging her awkwardly.

“It smells delicious.”

“It’s supposed to pizza,” she said morosely, but her voice had lost the croaky edge. “But I had to use a cake tin. It was a bit runny.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

Jemma wasn’t much of a cook on the best of days but the past couple weeks-months- years- had not been the best of days. She didn’t typically break down because of some clumsiness in the kitchen but with her nerves already frayed and the stress piling on, any little thing could set her off. Jasper had had similar moments; plenty of them.

_Ding!_

He went over to the oven and opened it.

“Looks good.”

It really did. He could see she’d cut up the last leftover pig in a blanket from yesterday and the seasonings she’d used gave it a little extra color. And it looked like there had been just enough cheese left to spread evenly and generously over everything.

He put on the oven mitts and took it out, closing the door with his knee and setting the pan on the stove.

“Why don’t you go change into pajamas and find something on T.V. while we wait for this to cool?” he suggested.

The mess really wasn’t so bad. Getting the spills cleaned up was easy now that his injuries had more or less healed. He’d dealt with worse messes back when he was a beginner chef. After that it was just the dishes that needed to be washed.

“You don’t have to do that,” said Jemma. “It’s my mess. I’ll clean it up.”

“No, no. You cooked, I’ll clean up.”

That was the arrangement but usually it was the other way around.

“No, really, I’d like to. You’ve been out all day. You must be tired. I think I can just about manage a few dishes without turning the kitchen into a war zone.”

She seemed calmer now that she’d freshened up and the kitchen looked less of a disaster. Maybe she’d been cheered by the pizza looking and smelling like she'd known what she was doing.

“Okay, well, let’s eat first at least. You must be starving.”

Jasper cut the pizza into generous servings and served Jemma first. He took his time serving himself because he knew Jemma would want to taste test it first.

“How is it?” he asked, sitting down and watching her chew thoughtfully.

She hesitated.

“It’s okay. It's not _bad._ The dough’s a bit moist and oatmealy. I wish I’d seasoned it with something.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jasper said, digging in. “Now you know for next time.”

He took a bite. He understood what she meant about the dough but at least it worked. The toppings were perfect considering how little they had on hand and managed to usually overpower the oatmealy taste of the crust.

“I like it,” he declared. “Definitely worth the kitchen hurricane.”

Jemma beamed at him.

“Awww. You’re so sweet to suck up like that.”

Jasper gave her a big idiotic grin around a mouthful of pizza and she laughed.

She got through a few more bites before pushing her plate away.

“I don’t care for it. I wasn’t actually that hungry anyway,” she assured him when she saw the look on his face.

“I’ll finish it.”

Jemma eyed him skeptically.

“Really? You don’t have to. You have to admit it tastes a bit… odd.”

Jasper nodded and made grabby hands at her plate.

“I like odd,” he said. “Besides, I’m starving.”

Jemma smiled and handed him her plate. She got up to pour herself some water to wash away the taste and then started the dishes.

Jasper, if he was honest, had some trouble finishing Jemma’s slice on top of his own. It _did_ taste odd. Maybe oatmeal was not the best flour substitute for pizza dough. But there was no need to say that out loud after the trouble she’d gone to make it. He'd scarfed down worse to someone up. Plus he could think of a million easy ways to make it taste better the next time they found themselves in a pinch. They could make it together next time and save the mess and tears.

Jemma had finished at the sink and gone to watch T.V. so he washed his own plate, drank some water, and changed into sweats and a t-shirt before joining her. She cuddled into him when he lifted his arm and he was able to hug her properly this time. He kissed her head again.

"Thank you for dinner," he murmured.

"You're welcome. But I think next time I want to do something nice I'll just get some candles and rose petals and run you a bath."

Jasper laughed.

"Well we don't have rose petals but we do have candles," he said.

Jemma pulled away to give him a suggestive look but yawned instead.

"Tomorrow," she said, turning her head to kiss his chest. She handed him the remote. “You pick,” she said. “There’s not much on.”

After flipping between dog training and ultimate fishing for twenty minutes he gave up and turned the T.V. off.

“Should I make hot chocolate?”

Jemma looked up at him hopefully.

“There’s no sugar,” she reminded him. “And barely any cocoa.”

Ah yes. That was one drawback to stress baking in safe houses. They didn't stock themselves. They were out of just about everything and even if the stores were still open they weren't anywhere near one.

“I’ll figure something out.”

 

 


End file.
